


found

by natsugumi



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Holidays, izumi's therapy company
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28060617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsugumi/pseuds/natsugumi
Summary: Nobody is in the lounge this late, God bless, but the frosted glass of the balcony door is illuminated by the painfully yellow bulbs that Tasuku had replaced last week. Through it, she can see a silhouette leaning over the railing.“That’s it, okay? I’m eighteen now. ...Okay. I know. Bye.” Tenma pulls his phone away from his ear as Izumi pokes her head out. He rubs his face and goes back to his call. “Yeah, love you.” And then he hangs up and fully turns to Izumi.
Relationships: Sumeragi Tenma & Tachibana Izumi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	found

**Author's Note:**

> TW: discussion of tenma's parents and izumi's dad, pretty hard mentions of childhood neglect. it's all discussion by izumi and tenma themselves, but stay safe!

There’s something seriously wrong, Izumi guesses as she opens her door to Yuki in the corridor.

The young boy stands up straight from where he’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line. “Director.”

“Yuki-kun,” Izumi greets back. She mirrors his pose, crossing her arms as a stray gust blows in from the courtyard. “Do you want to come inside? It’s chilly out here.”

Yuki shakes his head. “It’s not me. You should probably go to the balcony. I can’t help him with this.”

“Huh? Yuki-kun, what’s this about—”

“I’m going back to my room. Don’t tell him I said anything,” Yuki calls behind him as he crosses the few feet back to 201 and shuts the door behind him.

Izumi frowns, but she steps inside for a moment to grab a jacket and then turns the knob as she closes the door to her room. It swings back into the frame silently.

Nobody is in the lounge this late, God bless, but the frosted glass of the balcony door is illuminated by the painfully yellow bulbs that Tasuku had replaced last week. Through it, she can see a silhouette leaning over the railing.

“That’s it, okay? I’m eighteen now. ...Okay. I know. Bye.” Tenma pulls his phone away from his ear as Izumi pokes her head out. He rubs his face and goes back to his call. “Yeah, love you.” And then he hangs up and fully turns to Izumi. “Sorry. Mom,” he mumbles as he raises his phone. “Could you hear me?”

Izumi shakes her head. “Everything okay? Going home for the holidays?”

Tenma cringes. “Actually, I…”

“You…?”

“Told them I was gonna stay here,” he admits. “If that’s okay.”

Oh, poor kid. “Of course it’s more than okay for you to stay here, Tenma.” She sits down at the table and reaches over to pat the seat of the other chair in invitation. “Want to talk about it?”

He shows no sign of response other than sitting down and scooting in.

“Tenma,” Izumi murmurs. “We don’t have to, but it’s better to get it out sooner than later.”

Tenma lays his head down and hums. “I don’t know.”

“And that’s okay. That’s okay.” It’s rare to see Tenma so down to the point of near-silence. “It’s alright if you don’t know how you’re feeling, or why you’re feeling how you do. Did they do anything?”

“No,” Tenma replies easily. He buries his head further into his arms. Izumi lets out a sigh of relief she didn’t know she’d been holding. “But they sounded disappointed. And I don’t know how to feel.”

Izumi presses her lips together and searches for an answer. “Why did you want to stay here this year, Tenma?”

“This was the first year my dad would be free on Christmas, and both of my parents would be free for New Years.” He goes silent for a bit. Izumi waits for him to continue. “The last time I saw my parents for—any holiday, really, was when I was eight, maybe.”

“Oh, Tenma…”

“But we’d plan to for a few years. My tenth birthday: my mom made it but my dad got a filming rescheduled on him last minute. The Christmases after, they said they’d be home by the 24th.” Tenma turns to look out the window. He’s frowning; Izumi’s chest twists in familiarity. “Didn’t make it. This is the first time in years we’re all free, but…” He sighs. “I. Should I just go?”

“My dad was always at the dorms for Christmas,” Izumi murmurs. “And if he wasn’t, he was on tour.”

Tenma looks up. “I’m s—”

“ _No_ ,” Izumi hushes. “Nope, I’m not done. I haven’t spent a Christmas with him since I was—hell, I honestly don’t remember. But—”

“But?”

“But even if he comes back to Japan, I wouldn’t dream of spending the season with him.” The crease between Tenma’s brows is growing exponentially, so she continues, “It doesn’t matter if I wanted to spend Christmas with my old man when I was seven. I was starved for attention for my dad who’s always put his job above me. But—I guess I can understand where he’s coming from, just a little bit.”

“How?”

“I’d spend my holidays with the troupe over my blood family, no questions asked.” She pauses. “Well, I’m gonna FaceTime my mom. I love my mom. We both hate his ass.”

Tenma laughs a little at that and Izumi beams. She pats his shoulder. “It’s not like it’s an exchange system, alright? You don’t owe it to them. And—you don’t have to tell me why you don’t want to see them, but if being here makes you more comfortable, then you’re allowed to stay.”

There’s a tiny smile on Tenma’s face. Izumi can work with that. “Um…it’s late, so promise I never said any of this, okay?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Izumi swears.

“I guess…” He begins. “I guess that, it’s just. It’s. It’s okay for me to want to stay here. Because I want to spend my holidays at home, and this place is…”

“ _Tenma_ ,” Izumi coos with newfound fondness for the little shit. She should give him a raise. Does she even pay him? “Can I remember that part?”

“Absolutely not! A-anyway.” He crosses his arms and leans back. “It’s just—I’m just angry and confused, I think. Because I spent so much time waiting for them to come home, and now that I’ve finally gotten out of that mindset, they’re allowed to be upset that I…”

Izumi selects her words carefully. “You can’t control…you can’t control how people will feel. I don’t know what I would’ve had to do to get my dad to come home sometimes, and there’s nothing he can do now to stop me from, er, strongly disliking him now. But you don’t owe it to anyone to try and make them happy if it’ll hurt you.” She clicks her tongue. “And besides, these are your parents. You don’t owe them _anything_ as far as I’m concerned. They’re grown ass adults—they’ll learn how to deal.”

It’s a full laugh now—Tenma’s shoulders shake. Guess hate on his parents is really funny to him. Oh, if only he knew how much of a comedian Izumi could really be. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

“I’m eighteen.”

“Anyway, let’s get to the kitchen? I’ll make you some honey milk. Stuff always helps when I can’t sleep.”

“I’m not a kid—” Tenma argues as the director pushes him inside.

Izumi just smiles and flicks off the lights behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the bad title i've been looping hot limit for the past two hours which fits very much with the current season Also i don't know why i've been writing seasonal fics summer is my favorite season i swear. I don't like talking in notes because I want to look cool but i thought that it would be interesting to add that the majority of my missing assignments from this grading period are due in 3 hours and i'm absolutely failing english (ironic? i hope so) because there's no way I'm raising my D in there in time. anyway this is just a glimpse into how i perceive tenma and now that i'm writing things again hopefully i will finish this other fic and then you will be able to see how i really perceive him, just me seeing and perceiving the truth. Then you will see. I'm going to fail marching band like HOW DO YOU FAIL MARCHING BAND? it's literally impossible but I have an F in there okay i hope you liked the fic
> 
> talk to me about tenma on [twitter](https://twitter.com/godzatrio)


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